


No Regrets

by YlvaUllsdotter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 18+, Angst, Coitus, Concerned!Dean, Dean Winchester - Freeform, Dean x Reader, F/M, Fanfiction, Fingering, Fluff, Fluffy Smut, Holy Trinity of Fanfiction, Miss-Spnm0mma’s 200 Follower Challenge, NSFW, Oral Sex, Reader Insert, SPN - Freeform, Smut, Supernatural - Freeform, Tumblr, Tumblr Challenge, angsty!Dean, smutty fluff, tactile!Dean, you - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 11:20:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14055846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YlvaUllsdotter/pseuds/YlvaUllsdotter
Summary: Dean is feeling insecure about your relationship, starting to wonder if you would rather get out of the hunter life.





	No Regrets

**Author's Note:**

> Written for @miss-spnm0mma’s 200 follower challenge. My prompt is bolded in the story, which contains the holy trinity of fanfiction - Angst, Fluff, Smut - so mind the tags. I apologize for nothing.

Dean saw the way you melted over the simplest things when you went shopping. Curtains, china, and, the thing that made him the most uncomfortable, baby clothes. Every time it happened he gave you your space, pretending he was unaware of what you were doing, but inside, every time, he died a little. It killed him that you would never have those things. He knew, or thought he knew, how much you wanted a normal life, away from hunting, where you could spend your time on all of those things. He also knew that he would never be able to give you that. Even if he had yet to figure out how, he knew that he and his brother were important to the world in some way, and he would never be able to get out of the hunter life.

This time it was a matching towel set which, he had to admit, looked really nice. Without acknowledging your longing looks, he paused as if to check the shopping list, while really giving you a moment to yourself, before moving on, you trailing in his wake. It was just one more thing, but on top of every previous time, it brought him to a point where he felt like he had tipped over an edge into an abyss of self-loathing for keeping you in a relationship where you were unhappy. 

You noticed Dean become quiet, his responses to your questions limited to single words, or even just a grunt. The drive home was almost oppressive, not even the music from the radio able to cut through the funk Dean was clearly in. You knew the signs, of course. This happened to Dean every so often, he would sink into a dark hole of blaming himself for everything, real or imagined. While you were unsure what had set it off this time, you did know what he would need to pull himself back out.

When you arrived back at the Bunker, you let Dean go off by himself, giving him some space. You found Sam in the library and let him know what was going on. Knowing his brother, he made himself scarce, taking off to Sioux Falls for the weekend. Having made sure you would be undisturbed for a couple of days, you made your way to the room you shared with Dean. 

He was sprawled on the bed, his back against the headboard, headphones streaming music into his ears. He glanced at you as you entered, face arranged in a neutral expression. 

You sat down on the edge of the bed next to him, gently pulling the headphones away and setting them on the bedside table. 

“Talk to me, Dean.” Your tone was soft, with a firm edge, letting him know that you would not let him weasel out of this conversation. He recognized the tone and sighed, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes trained on a spot on his sleeve.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” He hedged, almost pouting.

“Yeah, bullshit.” The soft tone of your voice softened the expression, and got him to glance up, meeting your eyes for just a second, before going back to studying his shirt sleeve. He muttered under his breath, words that you chose to pretend you did not hear.

“Why are you still with me?” 

The question took you by surprise and you blinked at him as you processed.

“Why would you ask that, Dean? Don’t you know by now how much I love you?” You were unable to keep a hint of hurt from creeping into your voice. Dean sighed, one hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

“You say you do, and I believe you, but I still don’t get it.” His voice was a little muffled from his hand covering most of his face and he missed your small frown.

“What’s not to get? I love you. What part of that escapes you?”

“I guess what I mean is...are you happy?” His question made your frown deepen in confusion.

“Of course I’m happy, Dean. How can I not be? I have everything I could ever ask for.”

“Do you, though?”

“Of course! Why would you even ask that?”

“I see you, you know.”

“Uhm... okay?” Your confusion must have been coming through in your voice because he looked up at you finally, his gaze intense.

“When we go on supply runs, I see you mooning over those things, the curtains and baby clothes. You want that, and I can’t give it to you. So I gotta wonder if you really are happy.”

Finally, you understood, and a small smile curled the corners of your mouth up.

“Dean, you’re a dumbass.” He raised his eyebrows at your words. “Just because I enjoy looking, and even fantasizing about having those things, doesn’t mean I’m not perfectly happy with the way things are. With you. With us.”

He was the one frowning now, looking like he was trying to solve an advanced equation.

“Are you happy with this life though? Really?” He sounded small and insecure all of a sudden and you could see the fear in his eyes. Fear that you would leave him for the fantasy life. 

You brought your hand up to rest on his arm, feeling the tension in the muscles beneath the layers of fabric, wanting his full attention. Bringing all of your love for him up to the surface, you hoped that it showed in your eyes.

**“You have to know I wouldn’t wish for a different life.”** You squeezed his arm, your other hand coming up to cradle his face. **“This life brought me you.”**

You could see the change in him when he processed your words, and you moved in to brush your lips against his, wanting to show him with actions how you felt. Dean had always been more tactile than verbal, expressing his emotions through actions rather than words, and you had realized that it was the best way to make him see how you felt as well.

Dean responded to your kiss, his arms uncrossing, hands coming to rest lightly on your shoulders, before moving up to cradle your face, the kiss becoming more urgent. His hands slid over your shoulders again, and down your back, finding the hem of your shirt and slipping beneath it to press against your warm skin, pulling you toward him. 

Those strong hands that could choke the life out of a man, that could wield a blade or a firearm with the same deadly grace, touched you with such gentle reverence it made you melt every time. Without conscious effort, you found yourself straddling him, his growing bulge pressing against your covered pussy, making you roll your hips for increased friction, swallowing the moan you drew from Dean.

Your hands slipped under his layers to feel his skin, caressing his soft belly, moving up his torso. As your hands moved up, more of his skin was exposed and you pulled away from the kiss to lean down and place butterfly kisses on his chest. 

Dean’s hands left you only long enough to pull his shirt over his head, throwing it across the room. When you felt his touch again, he was tugging on your own shirt, and you lifted your arms above your head to let him remove it. The contrast between the cool air and his warm hands, both caressing your skin, made you erupt in goosebumps. 

You sat up, Dean’s hands coming to rest on your waist while you reached behind you to undo your bra, letting it slip off to reveal your breasts, nipples already peaked. The look of pure awe on his face almost brought tears to your eyes. How could you not be absolutely and completely happy with a man that looked at you like that?

Placing your hands on Dean’s, you brought them up to your breasts. The feeling of his calloused fingers gently squeezing them, palms rubbing against your sensitive nipples, had your lips forming a silent ‘O’. Your hands caressed his strong muscled arms as you leaned into his touch, his fingers rolling each nipple, the feeling shooting straight to your soaked cunt. 

Your trembling fingers found their way to his pants, working to get them off him. For a few moments, it was all arms and legs as both of you struggled to free each other from the rest of the layers of fabric keeping you apart.

Finally, your bodies were able to press together, skin to skin, and the feeling was amazing. His hard cock trapped between you, he rolled his hips, making you gasp at the feeling. You guided his hand to your core, and when he slid two fingers inside you, you bit down on his shoulder to keep from crying out. Within moments, Dean had you writhing against him, riding his fingers and chasing your orgasm, panting in frustration when it was not enough.

You pushed him over, rolling both of you so Dean was on his back with you on top. You shifted around to straddle his face, your fingers wrapping around his length, drawing a growl from him. When his lips latched around your clit, you sucked him into your mouth, and before long you found a rhythm, mimicking each other’s actions. 

When your orgasm ripped through you, Dean was secretly glad it pulled your mouth off him, he was so close to the edge. Pulling you around and tucking you under him, he kissed you, slowly and sensually, while he lined himself up. When he entered you it was in a long slow push, letting you feel every inch of his length and drawing a groan from your swollen lips. You wrapped yourself around him, needing to feel him closer, and he wrapped his own arms around you, pulling you tight against him.

Dean’s thrusts were slow, dragging against your g-spot with every push and pull, driving you inexorably toward another orgasm. You were both so focused on chasing that high that you were no longer so much kissing as just breathing each other’s air with each panting breath. It was exhilarating and excruciating, and you wanted to go on forever, but you also needed him to move. 

“Dean...move…” Your breath ghosted over his face with your words at the same time as you rolled your hips to meet his thrust, pulling a lust filled groan from him. He snapped his hips forward, his cock bottoming out inside you, making you cry out with pleasure. Your sounds spurred him on and his thrusts quickened until he was pounding into you, your hips meeting on every thrust.

The small room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin mingled with the breathy moans and growls emanating from the two of you as you raced toward your release. You were almost there when you felt his hips stutter, his rhythm falter and your name fell from his lips like a prayer. That was all it took for you to tumble over the edge, pulling him with you when your pussy clenched around his cock inside you.

You lay there for a while, losing track of time as you reveled in the feeling of him on top of you. He used to be afraid of crushing you, but you had finally convinced him that you enjoyed the weight of him, it made you feel safe, so now he stayed until you prodded him to roll over. 

For a long while, the only sounds in the room were both of your panting breaths, and you focused on that, and the comforting feeling of his weight on top of you, as you came down. Your hands roamed over his back, caressing, soothing, as he calmed.

When you finally rolled apart, you both lay on your sides, both with languid smiles of pure bliss, your noses almost touching.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”


End file.
